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Monday, September 24, 2012

A petite shadow cast over them shortly.
When he glanced up he saw the earlier person standing there in the water,
shoulders low as it struggled in holding a medium sized trunk. “It sounds like
you’ve made a decision.”

“How much good does it do? It only hurts
more.” With this decision his heart felt heavier, sickness settling into his
stomach. He glanced back up and then dropped his gaze to the trunk, “What is
that?”

“Reinforcement.” A boot peaked out from
beneath the long coat as it stepped up, approaching slowly before chucking the
trunk on the bed. The weight of the trunk caused it to bounce on the poor
mattress. “Do you need more of my help or do you think you can do it?”

“Who are you?” He couldn’t help asking. The
figure reached up and grabbed at the hood, lowering it so that finally Henry
could see the gentle face of a young woman.

Her face was what was tender but otherwise
her gaze was rather hard and cold. Her voice hadn’t given in to her femininity
as she was so cold, or perhaps he had been so distracted by Seth that he hadn’t
noticed.

The woman knelt down onto the bed, reaching
out to touch the man’s cheek with her gloved fingers before she snatched the
scarf from around his neck and took a look at the wound. From then on her
movements were rather prompt as she opened up the small trunk and placed a hand
over his chest, feeling for his heart. “The choice is really yours. He can’t
decide anything at this point.”

Henry shifted uncomfortably and glanced at
the man’s constant fighting. He lowered his head, shoulders beginning to shake
with emotion. “Please save him.”

The damage was as extensive as he had
dreaded. It was a difficult procedure with what the woman murmured to be
sub-humane medical conditions. Henry only watched and assisted where he could,
attempting as much as possible to make the area sterile by making use of some
alcohol on each instrument that the woman intended to use.

He watched her actions very carefully, not
knowing what type of person she truly was but not so wary that he was inclined
to stop her from trying to save Seth. Other than watch her he could only follow
her sporadic and rather unfeeling orders, hold the man’s hand and comb back his
soaking hair.

Occasionally he could feel the woman’s eyes
wandering up to examine him as scrupulously as she did the gaping wound. He
wasn’t too surprised by the reaction. The sight was certainly one to see and he
would have been staring too had he been in her position.

She exhaled heavily, wiping her damp cheek
and forehead in her shoulder, “He’s probably not going to be thanking you for
any of this if he lives.”

“How high are the chances that he’ll live?”
Henry’s response came quickly with no real response in mind to her statement.

“They’re not too bad.” She seated herself
rather unlady-like on the dusty mattress, holding up a needle and thread to the
dim lighting of the roaring fire.

Henry winced sharply at the sight of the
pointed object; the thought alone of the woman stitching the man’s tender skin
made him sick with unease. “I’m sure he’ll be angry at me at first. Maybe for a
little while.” Her earlier statement finally sunk in and a response left his
lips before he could really give it much thought. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“How well do you know him?” She enquired,
eyes shooting to glance at Henry. She didn’t hold that gaze for very long,
quickly beginning to stitch up the wound.

Henry clenched Seth’s hand tightly in his
as though he were trying to comfort him, unsure about whether he was in a lot
of pain or not.

“There’s a lot of damage here.” She pointed
out. “If he ever wakes up I don’t think he’s going to be very pleased with the
state he’ll be in.”

“I’ll tend to him for however long
necessary.” Henry whispered, lifting the man’s hand in his own clasped ones.
“I’m sure he’ll get better. He…he’s still breathing. He’s…survived a lot
already.”

“Only so much.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The young woman appeared to smirk meekly,
no doubt satisfied that she had jerked a response out of him. “It means, my
dear friend, that he’s most likely not going to be thanking you when he wakes
up. He won’t berate you either. Or say much of anything else.”

Henry wasn’t sure what had happened but he
suddenly couldn’t tell the difference between his own body and Seth’s. Both
were ice cold. “I don’t understand… Are you…”

Come back on October 10th for an interview with Henry. For more on Kyra Gregory, scroll down for an interview with the author.